


Drunk Goggles

by hellowkatey



Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: A little too drunk, College, College!Matt & Foggy, Matt almost reveals his secret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-08 16:46:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17390015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellowkatey/pseuds/hellowkatey
Summary: Matt and Foggy get drunk after their last final exam. Matt forgets to act blind and some questions are brought up.





	Drunk Goggles

Six hours ago, Foggy walked in the room with a bottle of whiskey and a case of beers. 

Five hours ago, Matt and Foggy met some friends at a bar to celebrate the end of finals. 

Three hours ago, the pair re-entered the apartment with a light buzz and the enthusiasm of freshmen on welcome week. 

One hour ago, a very empty bottle of whiskey was discarded on the floor. 

Now the pair lays in haphazard positions in the living room. Foggy is laying on his back on the floor, feet propped up on the seat of the couch, and Matt is laying across a chair, his legs dangling over the arms and his head resting against the wall. 

"Matty, we have done it! Finals... check! Next stop..." 

"Law school!" Matt grins, raising his now-empty beer in the air. 

"Dammmmmn right!"

"Hey Fog, pass me another, will ya?" Matt asks holding his hand up. Foggy reaches down into the half-empty case and immediately chucks the beer across the room. As if in slow motion, Foggy gasps, realizing he just threw a beer at a blind man, but the slowness of Matt's drunk brain doesn't process the fact he needs to miss the beer until it's nestled securely in his hand.

"What the  _fuck_!" Foggy yells, jumping up. "How did you catch that?" 

"You, uh, have great aim I guess." 

"No, no, you moved your hand. You had to reach for it." 

"I, uh." Matt is panicking. Four years he's lived with Foggy. He's been so careful not to reveal his heightened senses. Sure, he thought of telling him, but he was afraid he would see him as a liar. Not understand or judge him for being a freak. After a while, it seemed better to just keep it to himself. It would do less damage. But now, oh now Matt has fucked up. "You know bats?" 

"What the fuck do  _bats_ have to do with this?" 

"They, uh, see with sound. I heard the liquid in the can... so I used sound." 

"I thought they do the click thing." 

"The click thing?"

"Yeah, echoes or something."

"Uhh, same thing?" 

"Oh. That's pretty cool." Foggy doesn't seem too convinced, but at least he isn't questioning it anymore. 

"Yeah, uh, so..." Matt sets the beer down on the ground unopened, suddenly a lot soberer than he was two minutes ago and not in the mood to get so drunk he accidentally does something stupid. 

"You should play baseball." Foggy mutters, drowsiness seeming to take over him as well. 

"Just because I can catch an underhand-thrown soda doesn't mean I could take a 100 mph fastball, Fog." 

"Not with that attitude. It's a disABILITY, Matthew. Sound it out." 

Matt knows whenever Foggy resorts to calling him Matthew, he's as well as blacked. Relief washes through him and he gets up, putting on a show to feel around for a blanket he knows is resting on the floor and throwing it on Foggy who seems will be spending the night on the sofa. It's closer to the bathroom than his room, so maybe it's for the best. He says goodnight and stumbles into his own room, shutting the door and collapsing onto his bed. 

 

Matt wakes up with a blistering headache, the smell of alcohol that seems to be protruding from his pores, and his glasses bent awkwardly across his face.  _Damn, must have fallen asleep in my glasses again._ Matt groans, throwing them across the room into the trash can. He reaches into his drawer and pulls out his spare pair. They're rounder, with red tinted lens. Foggy picked them out when Matt accidentally walked into a pole, shattering his older ones (an actual accident, not a show he put on, much to Matt's embarrassment). Matt always felt them too flashy, but maybe they'll fit his new lawyer life. 

He slides them into the pocket of his sweatpants and walks out into the living room where Foggy is still perched on the couch, slowly sipping water. 

"Regrets?" Matt says softly, grabbing a water bottle and a bottle of painkillers from the kitchen. He takes three and then passes them to Foggy. 

"So many." 

"Do you remember anything?" 

"Oh god, what did I do?" 

"Do you really not remember?" 

"No! Matt, did I embarrass myself? Did I drunk call Marci? Oh my god, where is my phone?"

"Well besides jumping on the bar and tearing your pants off I'd say you--"

"I did?" Foggy bellows, collapsing back into the couch. 

"No, of course not." Matt chuckles. "Your clothes stayed on, you were just very far gone." 

"You're an asshole, you know that?" 

Matt takes a few long swigs of water, relieved that Foggy seems to have forgotten Matt's tiny slip up. His secret lives another day.


End file.
